The ReBirth
by ThePhantomsSoprano
Summary: Erik's ghost returns from the grave


The Place...

The Opera Populaire in the center of

Where?...

The door leading to the dank damp musty lair...

The nervous tension of the unknown and unseen recorder that stood there behind the video camera held in a steady unshakable hand was palpable in the dank musty air of the empty building. The recorder stood on the threshold of the cellars that lead down beneath the opera house. Anyone who knew the story of the phantom of the opera and Christine Daae knew that there was more than one way to enter the lair and home of the phantom that existed across the infamous lake but only 3 were really well known. One was the hidden gated passage somewhere in the rue scribe, and though the viewer had found it the viewer could' t figure out how to open it. The second was where the viewer currently stood presently and that was the cellars. Last but not least was the mirrored doorway inside Christine's dressing room, this one would be a last resort if the viewer failed to reach the lair via the passages and catacombs. Would the phantom's traps an tricks still work in this modern era was wondered as said viewer decided at the last minute that the cellars would be avoided for the main fast route via the mirrored door.

Turning from the cellars the viewer made their way to the dressing room booted feet echoing all the way. Eventually coming to a stop outside the dressing room door an unseen hand reached for the door and turned the handle of the door and pushed it open, the door slowly went back creaking on its ancient rusted hinges as it did so before coming to a stop. The viewer behind the video camera recording every minute detail. The camera panned to the left taking in the rails of dusty moth eaten clothing, the armoire that held dresses inside as one door remained closed while the other hung off the frame to the side. The gilt red lounge chair against the wall and an old poster upon the wall above it. Somewhere the sound of music being played on a violin could be heard but too indistinct to make out but becoming clearer, plus the stuttering slow throbbing beat that thumped here and there, it too was indistinct but growing stronger and louder the closer the viewer got to their destination.

The camera panned to the right side of the room and there it came into view the gilt leaden mirror with its hidden secret and the dressing table where the diva and soprano Christine Daae had once sat before and after a performance. The viewer stepped into the room and moved towards the table the camera panned across the surface at all the old make up with brushes that lay atop it to the half open drawers of the desk, and one that remained locked and closed. The viewer sat down at the table and the camera reflected back the empty frame of mirror where glass should have been. The unseen hand of the viewer reached for the only closed drawer of the table only to find it locked and unable to be opened. Silently once more the viewer stood up and this time turned to the only place left, the mirror. The unseen hand reached for the mechanism that would open the secret door. A click could be heard as the mirror opened silently from its latch and the unseen hand pulled it open and the camera's only light shone into the darkness that would lead to infamous lair of the legendary man known as the phantom of the opera...

The camera panned one last time around the dressing room before booted feet stepped through and into the damp dank musty dark passageway full of rats, silken cobwebs and rank disused air. As the sounds of violin music, a beating heart and booted footsteps echoed the camera panned once more back towards the entrance that was now far back behind the viewer who's unseen hand holding the camera shook ever so slightly before returning forwards. The camera holder reached the end of the passage and panned downwards. Panning left was a massive drop if one didn't know it was there one could fall right to their death while panning right was the sloping wall of the incline. Sticking close to said wall the viewer walked carefully and cautiously down the steep slope. Suddenly the music stopped and silence took reign. The viewer stopped too the sense of acute cold hard fear permeated the air around the viewer. The beating of a heart could still be heard at a soft constant beat also the sound of water lapping against the shoreline. Eventually the viewer came to the bottom of the incline and panned the camera around. There in the darkness lay the lake with its cold damp misty form lapping lazily against the stone chamber. To the left the waters vanished off into the darkness and countless chambers. To the right side the same result except for one thing and that was the outline of a black small boat tethered to the side of the shore a black empty lantern which hung on the front and a pole lay inside the small craft that one could see once the camera brought it into full focus when the viewer zoomed in.

Slowly the camera panned upwards away from the ancient pristine boat that looked like it was still in use though it hadn't been for years and how the viewer noted that the boat hadn't rotted away to let the waters seep into it. Across the water lay the grate that once hid the home of the phantom, its sharp points looking like they would drop at any moment on some unknown intruder. Distantly the outlines of standing candle holders stood all around and passed the stone stairs could just be seen that lead up to the massive stone structure across the way and what looked to be openings or tunnels behind that in strategic places. The viewer sighed and stepped into the boat and placed the camera down so that it would and could record everything without being held. The tether was untied and the pole picked up, the lantern at the front now lit and shining. The viewer poled the boat silently through the water to reach the other side all the while hoping that no unexpected trap would be set off by accident. The closer to the other side of the lake the viewer got the clearer the area became and natural rock caves and doorways could now be seen as could the standing candle holders that were positioned strategically around the area to provide as much light as possible. Reaching the opposite side the viewer tethered the boat placed the pole back into its former place and picked up the camera and stepped carefully onto the stone stairs that would take the viewer up to that heartbeat that sounded loudly was now barely a whisper just faintly to be made out this the viewer perceived was because they were now in the same area.

Cautiously the viewer approached the stone house but decided to enter it last and instead went to the nearest alcove and pulled back some tattered cobwebbed red curtains to see a room that had once been the viewer believed the phantoms workshop. Inside was a big desk with chair and old tools and drawings lay scattered around on and off the desk. Old faded barely discernible drawings also lay around as one entered and walked around the chamber the camera panning left and right also from floor to ceiling. The viewer noted that there were drawers in the desk but there was no discernible way to open these. Turning from this chamber the viewer went back to the other room and walked along to the opposite side. There the viewer saw shattered remnants of mirrors and a small alcove that held the headless body of a female mannequin, passed that was another escape route.

One of many thought the viewer as there wasn't really much else to see around this area so the viewer turned and headed for the open door of the house that was all that seemed to be left to investigate. The viewer stepped cautiously up to the open door and stood upon the threshold the fear the viewer felt evident in the air. Directly in front of the viewer lay the silent fireside of what appeared to be the main living room. Inside the fireplace ancient wood lay ready to be lit at a moments notice. Next to the fireside lay the black gothic throne chair and upon the floor dusty dank ancient Persian rugs there was also what appeared to be a small table in front of a chaise lounge chair. To the left when the camera panned in that direction there was a piano and beyond that a doorway sealed with silken cobwebs. When the camera panned to the right there was a small corridor so that was the way the viewer went first. Walking along slowly so as not to miss a thing while recording everything the viewer panned left to a small open area which just happened to he the kitchen. Passing by this and onward there were but two doors left one directly ahead and one to the right. The one in front was opened by the unseen hand of the viewer and into the bathroom with its massive bath hand carved into the floor with its gilded taps. The sink to the left of it and the toilet to the right of it and just behind it. There were also cupboards which the viewer assumed held towels and face cloths and other materials found in such a place. Turning from this room the viewer went to the only other door in this area and opened it into a room.

''Her Room''

The viewer thought to themselves. This room held all the accoutrements you might find in ones bedroom. A Dresser, dressing table with empty mirror. Tall cupboard for the hanging of dresses and such like and of course the bed itself. Walking to the dressing table the viewer opened drawers that could open and found very little. Drawers which were locked were left. The viewer recorded every detail of this room even opening the drawers and cupboards to see what was inside which were old musty threadbare clothes and dresses that had the viewer thought belonged to and been worn by Christine Daae. Leaving this room the viewer went back to the main living area and cautiously moved over to the only area left to check. The fear permeating the air from the viewer grew stronger as did the dread the viewer felt now that they were heading to what was assumed the phantoms domain and cautiously the viewer panned the camera around the corner of the doorway without looking at the screen the eyes screwed shut afraid of what might be there before then opening eyes and appearing at the threshold when nothing happened. The hand that held it shook and yet was steady at the same time, the silence that echoed making things worse instead of better. Not giving into the fear the viewer panned the camera around the room as slow as possible starting from the right hand side. There the camera recorded a black Victorian carved four poster bed with black velvet curtains, perfectly made up as if the owner had just tidied and left the room. The only reason you could know of its unused was the heavy layers of dust and cobwebs. On either side there were small tables each holding a candle holder with white candles in them. A chest of drawers and a cupboard also resided on that side of things along with a full length mirror beside a partial red velvet curtain.

The camera panned to the center of the room and there on a small dais lay an open black coffin. This made the viewer freeze then as if the viewer shook themselves the camera panned to the left of the room and there built into the wall was the famous organ in pristine condition and though it too held dust and cobwebs the viewer was under the impression that with one good clean it would be as if it had never been dirty. In front of the organ was a seat and upon the seat there lay a white half mask. The viewer walked towards it slowly until stopping right in front of it. This allowed the camera a perfect detailed view of both organ and mask. The unseen hand reached down and picked up the mask holding it carefully in front of the camera a sigh of wonder echoed and behind that there came another eerie sound. The hand which held the mask begun to shake uncontrollably as both the viewer and the camera turned around slowly towards where the sound came

The Dais!

The sound had come from inside the coffin that lay upon the dais. Before the viewer could take a step in that direction the sound came again and then slowly a hand raised upwards and peeled over the side of the coffin then the other did the same on the other side and he pulled himself upwards and out of it until he was standing up on his feet just in front of it before he spoke.

"Who dares! Enter my final resting place, my lair? Who brings me back from the eternal sleep of the dead?"

Came the long disused musical voice that the phantom was known for. Erik sat up slowly using one of his hands to cover the side of his face where his mask usually rested and turned his eyes to the viewer his other reached out for his mask. Quickly the viewer stepped over and handed it to him before retreated backwards as the mask once more was fitted to the face it had been made for. With slow movements Erik got to his feet and stepped out of his coffin bed mask in place and lasso in hand studying his surroundings.

"So once more I live in this world of pain and cruelty and you are the cause of it, or is it something else and you were just the means of waking me bringing me back from my eternal sleep. I was dead, I remember my death like it was yesterday. My theater once more needs O.G. at its helm too I think?"

The viewer said nothing just recorded every single detail that could be recorded. Erik smiled though it was a cold empty smile that never reached the man's eyes.

''My lair will need a good clean to get it back into use as will my instruments. My music is safe this I know as it was hidden never to be found but now that I live I will once more let my music be heard in this modern world.''

The viewer had been edging towards the exit in the hopes that a escape could be made but it was not to be. Erik lasso shot out and went around the viewers neck.

''You have but one choice, serve or die!''

With this the camera went black the last recorded image was of the...

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA.


End file.
